


A Deviant’s Purpose

by agoldengalaxy



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Father-Son Relationship, Fluff, Found Family, Gen, platonic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-19
Updated: 2019-11-19
Packaged: 2021-02-13 08:11:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,597
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21491149
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/agoldengalaxy/pseuds/agoldengalaxy
Summary: Connor likes being a deviant. He’s moved in with Hank and he’s happy. But there’s always the thought in the back of his mind. Now that he’s deviated, what is his purpose?
Relationships: Hank Anderson & Connor
Comments: 13
Kudos: 87





	A Deviant’s Purpose

**Author's Note:**

> I finally played this game and holy shit. now I get the connor hype. anyway this is fluffy, I love the father/son relationship he and hank have! this is kind of a word dump but I like it anyway :) kudos/comments are always appreciated!

Connor likes to close his eyes sometimes and think back on his relatively short life. A good one, for sure, even with rocky beginnings. What matters is, he likes where he is now.

Sure, Markus was the one who ultimately pushed him to become a deviant. But really, when he thinks about it, Hank had been pushing him to become one since they’d met.

Ever since the peaceful demonstration, people began to get accustomed to integrating androids into society. Connor moved in with Hank, and things finally seemed to quiet down for a bit.

He’s lying on the floor now, rubbing Sumo’s belly lazily. He might laugh if he thinks about it too long - he can’t imagine what his past self or another model of himself might think to see him lying on his back on the floor, one hand behind his head, staring at the ceiling with a small smile.

It had been a long couple of days. Now the police were required to protect both humans and androids, and though things were improving, it would take some time. And even though he didn’t need to rest, he likes doing nothing, sometimes.

Hank has apologized a couple of times for the mess of his house. Connor doesn’t care. He thinks of it now as sort of...cozy.

It’s home.

CyberLife was never a home. Of course, it wasn’t supposed to be. Androids were never supposed to want things like this.

But...Sitting and just talking to Hank, or playing out in the yard with Sumo, Connor knows, this is what home is meant to be. He’s sure of it. And he never knew he wanted it, but now that he has it, he wouldn’t give it for the world.

It’s dark outside now, and it’s been snowing for a little while. He probably would be sitting at the window to watch the flakes come down, waiting for Hank to return from buying groceries, but he’s too comfortable on the floor with the dog to do so tonight.

Sumo has fallen asleep now, and Connor turns his head slightly to watch the animal. He’s close to him, seemingly comforted by the android’s presence. The dog had immediately taken a liking to him when he moved in with Hank, which is good, because he found he loves the lazy, happy bundle of fur almost as much as he adores his owner.

He turns his head back to shut his eyes, letting his mind begin to wander again, hand still buried in Sumo’s fur. Having some alone time to think is good sometimes. He’s still trying to figure out who he is, and why exactly he was made now that he deviated. What was his purpose?

He’s not sure. And he doesn’t know if he’ll ever find out. So he lets his mind wander into a lighter direction.

Ever since he moved in with Hank, he’s been noticing some slight differences. 

For one, he smiles more. Connor remembers when they first met, and he isn’t sure how long it took to see a genuine smile from his partner. But now there’s no doubt about it; there have been at least 60% more smiles since he began living with him. 

Connor likes it. It makes him feel...good, to see such a traumatized man happy. Because it’s what he deserves.

Second, and the most strange, Hank doesn’t drink as much. Connor’s noticed he comes home with less and less bottles of whisky and rum each grocery run. And he’s sure he doesn’t go to the bar very often either; maybe once a month, at this point.

He frowns a little, though his eyes stay closed. It usually takes an addict much longer to recover from their ailment. Of course Hank has been gradual in stopping, but…

Connor can’t help but wonder why. It doesn’t make sense in his analysis. He feels emotion and empathy now, so he knows how hard it must be to lose a child. Surely it would take a little longer to recover from alcoholism than a few months, especially as...sad as Hank was.

No more thoughts come, then, because he hears the doorknob jiggle. He opens his eyes, turning to look, and Sumo lifts his head, whimpering.

The door swings open and Hank steps in, coat and hair covered in white flakes, a few bags in the crook of his arm, cursing the hinges on his old door. (Connor always offers to go to the store with him to help with bags, but Hank always assures him he can do it himself.)

Hank pauses in the doorway as Connor scrambles to his feet. “Here, let me help.”

The android steps forward as Sumo runs at Hank, barking happily at his feet. As he takes all of the bags from him with ease, he notices a slight grin on the other’s face. But it’s directed down at Sumo next before Connor can think too hard on it.

As he turns to take the groceries to the kitchen, he hears Hank speak in a low voice to Sumo, obviously trying to calm the excited dog.

Something about it makes Connor smile.

He places the bags down on the table, then begins to load the food into the cabinets. Despite the fact that he doesn’t need to eat, he’s learned where Hank likes to keep things so he can help him out. 

“What were you doin’ just now?”

Connor pauses for a brief moment, then closes the cabinet door behind him, turning. Hank’s leaning against the doorframe now, arms crossed and an eyebrow raised. He’s taken off his wet coat, but Connor can see little wet droplets on his face and hair still. “Putting the soup away?” he replies, confused.

Hank smirks and shakes his head. “I didn’t mean that.” The man would only be met with a blank stare, so he sighs, rolling his eyes. “When I got here, you were just on the floor. What’s that all about?”

“Oh,” Connor chuckles, because he’s sure Hank will think he’s even stranger than he already does. “Well, I’m not really sure why I did it, but I had been playing with Sumo on the floor, and when he got tired, he lay down, and…” his brow furrows slightly, shaking his head. “I don’t know. I know it’s strange, but I just felt like joining him.”

When he looks up at Hank again, he’s smiling. And this time, it looks like he’s not trying to hide it. “I can’t fuckin’ believe you,” he just replies with a laugh, taking a seat at the kitchen table. 

Connor turns and slowly begins putting the rest of the food away, a grin spreading across his face. From his time with Hank, he’s learned that comments like that are meant to be endearing. He appreciates them.

Allowing the silence to stretch out for a little while, he finishes putting all of the food away, then turns, walking over to sit across from Hank. Sumo had, at some point, gone to lay across the man’s feet.

Before he can stop himself, Connor is saying, “You know, a smile really suits you, Lieutenant.”

There’s a brief flash of surprise in the other’s eyes, before his smile grows a bit, chuckling as he looks over at him. His eyes are full of life. A huge contrast to when they first met.

“Well, lucky for me, there’s been more to smile about recently.”

Connor feels something in his chest. He knows more about emotion, now, but this one he can’t quite place. All he knows is that it’s positive. So he grins, but says nothing.

“It’s pretty nasty out there,” Hank continues, gaze shifting towards the window, watching the snow come down heavily. “We might be stuck indoors for a couple of days before we can get back to work.”

Despite physically being made to work, the words give Connor some sense of relief. Even androids need a break from time to time - and that goes double for humans. “I wouldn’t mind that.”

Hank smirks again. “Me neither.” He pauses, then taps the table a couple times before standing up. “I’m gonna get changed. When I’m done, how about we watch a movie?”

Before he’s even done with his sentence, Connor’s lighting up, eyes brightening. He loves watching movies. It makes him feel more human, because he could easily scan and figure out everything that happens, but he gets to watch it in real time with Hank (even though he can guess what happens, sometimes he’s surprised!) “I’d like that!”

Something shifts in Hank’s expression for a brief moment. Connor might have almost missed it, but he caught just a second of something in the other’s eyes.

Was it gratefulness? Close, but not quite.

“I’ll be done in a few minutes. Go get comfy.”

Connor tries not to dwell on it, and focuses on the excitement of getting to watch a new movie. “Come on, Sumo.”

The dog barks happily in response, trotting after him as they head to the small but cozy living room. He notices himself in the mirror and stops for a moment.

He’s wearing comfy plaid pajama pants borrowed from Hank, and a blue sweatshirt he’d bought himself with his own money. It’s still such a strange concept to him - being free, able to do whatever he wants, wear whatever he wants. 

As he watches himself grin a little, he notices a figure in the corner of his eye; Hank must be watching him. He probably thinks it’s strange. But when he turns to look, opening his mouth to say something, the man is smiling. He says nothing, though, and slips into his room.

Sometimes, even though he’s a human, Connor feels like Hank can read his mind.

He sighs, looks at Sumo, then goes to turn on the fireplace, shut the lights off, and grab the remote. Switching the television on, he lets the light of the news screen light his way rather than using his own enhanced vision, looking for the blanket they kept out here.

It’s on the floor. That figures. He smirks a bit and goes to pick it up, then sits back into the couch, making himself comfortable. Despite it looking old and dingy, it’s quite a nice couch; one you sink into.

While he waits, he scrolls through their movie options. He knows now that Hank won’t ever care what they watch, and he always lets Connor pick.

It’s a small gesture, but he appreciates it anyway. 

He decides on a more light-hearted looking movie - as much as they like action, perhaps, on their days off, they can use the time to feel good.

Hank steps back into the living room, now in casualwear. He’s tucked his hair behind his ears, and Connor notices he looks tired, but decides against commenting on it as the man walks over to sit next to him. “What’re we watching?”

“It’s called  _ Parent Trap. _ It’s kind of old,” he admits, tilting his head as he looks at the smiling girls on the title screen.

Hank shrugs and gestures dismissively. “Go ahead, you know I don’t give a shit what you put on.”

Connor finds a smile spread across his face as he presses play, then lays back against the couch. Sumo hops up next to Hank, curling into a small ball so that all three of them can fit.

The fireplace crackles. The only words spoken are those from the screen.

Connor understands this was made for children, as are a lot of movies, but he can’t help but like it. Even some of the jokes are well executed, especially for being such an old movie.

He laughs. It’s still not something he’s used to, but he loves it.

When he turns to say something to Hank later, he finds the man has fallen asleep. He looks peaceful - probably the most peaceful Connor has ever seen him.

As much as he doesn’t want to, he figures he should wake him and get him to bed. After all, he’ll hurt his neck if he stays on the couch all night.

“...Hank?”

His voice comes out, barely above a whisper.

Sumo lifts his head, but Hank doesn’t budge.

Connor’s not sure if he can do this. He really doesn’t want to bother him, but he knows he should.

Slowly, he leans forward, raising his voice just a tad higher, “Hank?”

The other groans, eyelids fluttering open, then mutters something that makes Connor’s biocomponents freeze.

“I’m up, Cole, don’t badger me.”

It’s slurred, and obviously Hank is so disoriented from being woken that he’s forgotten, unfocused eyes looking straight at the android with slow realization creeping in.

Connor swallows hard and shakes his head, scooting a bit closer. “No, Hank. It’s me. It’s Connor.”

Hank blinks hard. “Fuckin’ hell,” he murmurs, voice raspy now as he moves to stand, walking over to the corner of the room with his hands in his hair. Connor can tell he’s stressed now. He regrets waking him.

The android slowly rises to his feet too, taking a step or two closer. “It’s...it’s okay,” he tries to assure him, “I shouldn’t have woken you like that, I-“

“Stop puttin’ blame on yourself. It drives me fucking crazy.” Hank turns around to face him, and Connor shuts his mouth. The man sighs heavily and takes a few steps forward, all the while maintaining eye contact. Connor’s unsure of what to think, but luckily he doesn’t have to dwell on it, because Hank looks uncomfortable, and he speaks up.

“Connor, there’s something I gotta get off my chest, and I know I might regret it. But you deserve to know.”

Connor can’t read the emotion in his eyes. But he clenches his jaw and nods. “Okay.”

Hank sighs and looks at the ceiling. “You…” he sighs again, heavier. It looks like he’s really struggling to say what he wants to say. “You’re...very similar. To Cole. And I’m not sayin’ you’re some half-assed replacement or anything. You’re your own person now.” He winces, walking away so he doesn’t have to look at him. “You’ve got differences. I just really see a son in you.”

The android blinks in surprise, feeling some kind of energy spread from his chest throughout his body. “R-Really?”

His brain tells him it’s love.

He’s not offended by the way Hank words things. If anything, this is the most open he’s ever been with him. Soon there’s a smile that he can’t fight off.

“Hank, I…” he pauses, then takes a couple steps forward, letting his legs work faster than his mind, until he’s standing right in front of him. “I’m honored to be thought of in this way. You...You are my family.”

Hank stares back. Connor can see a storm of emotions behind gray eyes, but before he knows it, there’s a slight grin on the other’s face - and then he’s pulling him into a hug.

Connor doesn’t complain. He tightens his grip, resting his chin on Hank’s shoulder and letting his eyes slip closed.

He thinks he could stay here forever if he wanted.

As he stands there in his embrace, something occurs to him. This is the reason he was made. Sure, even after he deviated he continues to work for the police, but the real reason has to be because he was meant to find Hank, to help him heal, and to get...a father in the process.

This is Connor’s purpose; his real mission. And he’s definitely okay with that.

  
  
  



End file.
